Christmas of Firsts
by Kat Lee formerly Pirate Turner
Summary: God and Sam bless Marrow with a Christmas of many firsts. Het. 7th in Will's/Kat's 2012 12 Days of Christmas stories for my beloved Jack/Drew and our darling babies.


Title: "Christmas of Firsts"  
Author: Pirate Turner  
Dedicated To: This is the 7th Christmas story of my 12 Days of Christmas 2012 series for my beloved and wonderful husband, Jack aka Drew, who's always such an inspiration, and also our sweet children! Thank you, my darling soul mate! I love you!  
Rating: PG  
Summary: God and Sam bless Marrow with a Christmas of many firsts.  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
Author's Note: 244. That's the number of stories that were sitting on my hard drive collecting dust because I lack the energy and time to take care of them as I once did. My betaing pattern has always been to write, then type up if written on paper, the story, read it aloud to my beloved Jack and our children, editing as I go, and then finally format and post. Sadly, this part is simply taking too much of my time and energy, and my beloved Jack and I have too little time together in person these days to be able to keep up with my stories. So what to do? Give up writing? I actually considered it for a while, tried to make excuses to myself other than the large number of stories collecting cyber dust on my computer, as to why I lacked the energy and Muse to write new tales. And then, with the turn of the new year, I decided to stop running and face the problem. The problem is, quite frankly, that once one gets so bogged down in formatting and editing that writing is no longer a pleasure but the actual posting of those writings becomes a hassle and - egad! - work, it's time to cut something out, and that will never be the writing process. So, in short, yes, there will be mistakes in this tale. Yes, it's missing about half of the header information I usually include. But I wrote it for pleasure and am posting it in hopes of sharing that pleasure with others. Do with it as you will.

She stared at the open, white expanse before them. Nothing moved; there was no sound for miles. For the first time in Marrow's volatile life that she could remember, there was no sign or chance of danger. She was safe, and another strange feeling bubbled within her.

A cow lowed in the distance. Marrow turned, her boots crunching in the snow that seemed to sparkle in the lowering sunlight, as her left hand went for a bone jutting out of her pink shoulder. Marrow fixed him with a glare but didn't feel the burning hatred to which she was accustomed to having fill her when some one laughed at her.

Sam stopped laughing and smiled at her. Marrow's heartbeat quickened at that sweet, innocent, small, and still somewhat shy smile. Sam covered her bone-clutching hand with one of his that, though truly being weaker, felt to Marrow, in that moment, so much stronger. Marrow's reliable anger fired as Sam stopped her from pulling out her bone.

"It's okay," he drawled. "It's just ol' Bessie." His smile grew. She felt herself swimming in that smile and the twinkle of his eyes whose color matched the bright blue of the sky. She'd never seen a shade so blue, bright, beautiful, or welcoming. "So this is Kansas," she murmured in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

"Yeah." His broad grin filled his face and made her heart pound in her chest with all the power and strength of gunfire. "This is Kansas, where cows low, th' empty fields go on for miles this time o' th' year, an' ya're amongst friends. Mah family likes ya, Sarah."

"Marrow," she barely remembered to remind him.

"No." He shook his head. She curled her pink fingers in response to the strange desire she felt to touch his shaking, blonde hair. Would it be as soft, she wondered, as it looked like it would be? What would be softer - his hair or the crystallike snow beneath their feet? Did she dare touch him to find out?

He was still talking, and she tuned back in to his words in time to hear, "Marrow's yoah name on th' battlefield, Sarah, but ya don't have ta fight here. Ya don't have ta be on guard. Ya can relax. Ya can be yoahself."

And then he touched her, and she thought she'd melt on the spot. Fighting the strange feelings surging within her, she turned away from him and focused her attention on the fields. They were beautiful, so pure and white. "It looks like somebody drew it," she whispered in awe. "Like a picture out of a book." She blushed. "Not that I read or anything."

Sam just couldn't seem to stop his arms from going around her. "Sure ya don't." Yet he'd seen the children's books she hid amongst her few belongings. He'd like to teach her how to really read, but that would have to wait for another day when she trusted him more and wasn't so afraid to let her few failures show.

Instead, he thought, his heart warming all the more for this wonderful but scared girl in his arms, this might be an opportune time to teach her about something else and far more important. "That's because Somebody did," he spoke softly.

"What?" Her head whipped around from gazing at the snowy fields to gawk at Sam like he was nuts.

"Somebody did," Sam repeated firmly.

"This ain't no painting!"

He chuckled and hid his grin at how she used his words. The girl had never even heard the word "ain't" before they'd come into each other's lives, and now she used it almost as frequently as he did. "Th' whole world's a canvas for God t' paint, Sarah."

For the first time, she didn't roll her eyes in response to his talking about God. She looked back to the fields instead and actually considered their simple but majestic beauty and his words. Sam had told her a lot of crazy things since she'd met the farmboy. He'd told her she could find peace; it was peaceful here. He'd told her his family would like her; they'd greeted her with openness, smiles, and handshakes and none of them had gawked at her, called her a "freak" or a "monster", or even asked her about the bones sticking out from all angles of her body - except for his tender mother, who'd asked her if she was in pain. She'd told her she wasn't, eyed her with the distrusting eyes of the wild animal she was, and then found herself wrapped in a big hug before she could stop the older woman.

And now here he was talking about a God again who was in control of everything, a God who let humans beat and kill mutants, a God who had, according to Sam, let his own son be killed so that they could all be saved, a God who she'd never thought could exist or, if He did, surely couldn't care about a freak like her. Yet, looking at these huge fields filled with snow and snow-capped trees standing tall in the far distance, Sarah could see a Higher Being having made this beautiful scene before her. Surely these fields couldn't have simply had snow dropped on them and look this beautiful without help.

He could see she was considering his witnessing for the first time and stepped quietly closer. "He made everythin', Sarah. He made this snow an' these fields. He made th' trees an' th' animals. He made me, an' He made you."

He lost her as she snorted. "He made a freakazoid."

Sam reached out and finally touched her skin. Passion, desire, and warmth swept through her. Her eyelashes fluttered unconsciously. She gazed at him, uncertain of everything she was feeling and all that he made her think. "S-Sam?" She cursed herself for allowing her voice to shake like a scared child's.

"Ya're not a freak, Sarah, an' there's somethin' else Ah want t' do this Christmas." He blushed this time. "Ah hope y'all don't think Ah need mistletoe. Ah'll find some if Ah gotta have it, but ya're beautiful, Sarah, an' Ah've wanted t' do this fer a long time." He stroked her hard, pink cheek, drawing his thumb gingerly along her jawline, and then he kissed her.

For the first time in Marrow's life, she found herself without a thought other than pleasure and happiness. That had been the strange, unknown feeling that had touched her earlier - the sensation she'd been unable to name. For the first time in her life, as Sam kissed her, the girl who'd tried so hard all her life to always be the kick-ass Marrow, the Sarah she had buried deep inside her, was truly, genuinely, and completely happy!

That wasn't the only thing that Marrow realized as she leaned into Sam's passionate kiss and let his strong arms wrap around her body. Also, for the first time in her life, she found herself willing to believe in a Higher Power - and eager to see more of how His handiwork might touch her life. Her thin lips upon her jagged face smiled even bigger against Sam's as she thought of a God, who was Lord of all things, even her, making this beautiful, country Winter around them and this beautiful, sweet boy kissing _her_ so passionately. She felt like shouting for joy, - and then Sam lifted his lips.

He was flushed and panting a little bit. Sweat sprinkled over his flesh. His hands shook as they cupped her face and stroked her skin. He looked at her in wonder, and another first happened for Marrow as, underneath Sam's intent, loving gaze, she felt like the most important thing in the world.

"Merry Christmas, Sarah," he breathed, his words washing over her still upturned mouth.

She flashed him a wide grin as she repeated, "Merry Christmas." It was the first time she'd said those words to a surface dweller, but she'd never meant them more.

Their kiss had ended too soon. She wanted more of it, more of him, more of the way he made her feel, and more of this life he offered her. She grabbed the collar of his flannel jacket and jerked his mouth back to hers. Yet again, as she kissed him and he returned her kiss with every bit of passion she poured into her lips' embrace on his and then some, all the hardness left her, and she found only one thought, besides the delicious taste of his lips and the wonderful sensations somersaulting through her being, still lingering in her mind: For an incredible, sweet, and handsome guy like Sam to want her, there had to be a God smiling down on her, and if Sam could truly love her, she'd spend the entire rest of her life trying to find a way to thank that God for all the wonderful miracles He'd given her this Christmas Eve and, of course, loving Sam all the time.

**The End**


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